A Small and Passing Thing
by UnnamedElement
Summary: There is a drought in Gondor and, even with a just King, hard times create political unrest... A series of unfortunate events put Legolas, his elves, and Faramir's son in grave danger, and it doesn't look like an accident. So just who is responsible, and why? And how many will have to suffer before this new darkness ends? /Post-fellowship, Mirkwood Series / Legolas, Ithildim, & Co
1. Chapter 1: Drought

**Author's note:** Finally writing again, and it has done me a world of good to write something fresh and, relatively (ha!), light. Also, most of my em-dashes just look like dashes because my tablet is driving me absolutely bonkers.

 **Important character notes:** This story includes Elboron, Faramir and Eowyn's canon son (excuse the lack of accent-I have not yet figured out this device). Elboron can be found in my story "Idiot Swallows and Impatient Dwarves." Saida and Ithildim are original characters-and Legolas' friends and agemates-and are featured in my Mirkwood Series, primarily in "Enough," "Humble Gifts," and "To Rekindle Hearts." Alfirinion and Ewessel are two children in Saida's family that were effectively orphaned after The Battle Under the Trees.

No beta for this one-all mistakes are mine.

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 **A Small and Passing Thing**

" _There, peeping among the cloud-wrack above a dark tor high up in the mountains, Sam saw a white star twinkle for a while. The beauty of it smote his heart, as he looked up out of the forsaken land, and hope returned to him. For like a shaft, clear and cold, the thought pierced him that in the end the Shadow was only a small and passing thing: there was light and high beauty for ever beyond its reach."_

 _-The Return of the King, JRR Tolkien_

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 **Chapter 1: Drought**

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 **Year 16, Fourth Age-Ithilien**

Legolas smiled and shouted a warning to Saida as he watched Elboron shoulder past Alfirinion to race Ewessel to the head of the path. Saida looked up at Legolas' call and waved an arm to let him know she was watching them as they ran and tumbled, Elboron predictably-but valiantly-losing to the feverish flight of the smaller elven child. At the end of the path, Saida threw both her arms out and caught up a child in each, and the force of their combined momentum sent her tumbling to her back with a roar of laughter.

It had been a good night. Though it had not been a good season for grain or trade, that month's hunts had been plentiful, and he was relieved to celebrate and to see the joy on the faces of his people after such a relatively short time in this new place. They had sang and danced and ate and drank, told stories and woven tunes that rose with the song of the cicadas in timeless chords, and the few children among them had flitted like dryads here and there, bringing joy to those who had seen far too much.

But it had not been easy to reach such joy. Years before, upon their first settlement in Ithilien, there was the fight against the remaining darkness-in the flora and fauna, the orc and the evil. Then there was the half-hearted assimilation into Gondorian culture and the struggles of a new diplomatic life. And, now, this horrid draught that made them nervous for winter and reminded too many of them of their struggles in a Greenwood under siege. Throughout, their leader had been more often than not distractable-ever-awake to the needs of his folk but drawn away from leadership at the smallest hint of Sea on the breeze.

But recently, Legolas thought, things were good. His head and heart were rooting themselves as best they could-more like reeds in sand than beech in loam, he thought, but rooting was rooting-and he had been more present these past months than he had been in years. Ithildim had begun representing them with the settlements in Belfalas and Saida had taken up some of his duties with the White Guard in Ithilien, and that left him to run their settlement, visit Gondor, wander, and tutor his students in between.

Which was the very reason Elboron was with him at the moment. After a year of hassling, Faramir and Eowyn had finally consented to an unsupervised visit to Legolas' home, a reward for the successful completion of his Sindarin lessons. When Legolas had deemed the child successful, Faramir had promised his child, Elboron could visit, and when Legolas had declared the child fluent, Eowyn had immediately amended, he could visit without a guard and on his own. Elboron had been beside himself at that promise.

It had all worked out very well, in Legolas' opinion, as it meant Elboron was now immersed in a new dialect that was difficult to teach in an isolated setting and he was providing the perfect distraction for Legolas' growing worries about the coming winter and from a new restlessness that pulled at the back of his mind when he was too long still.

Alfirinion tapped Legolas on the shoulder and pulled him from his thoughts.

"Legolas, I left my satchel at the fire. Ewessel's ledgers are in it and she will be cross at storytime if I do not fetch it."

Legolas patted his head and glanced down the path where Saida stood, Ewessel on her shoulders and Elboron bouncing on the balls of his feet at her side.

"Eh-oh!" he yelled to her. "Alfirinion goes for his bag."

Saida touched her forehead and nodded before taking Elboron by the hand and heading toward her dwelling in the darkness. Legolas could here Elboron's high voice trip over the very same elvish sounds he struggled to alter in his own Westron, as Elboron played a rhyming game with Ewessel. Legolas would have to remember to tell Eowyn and Faramir how much Elboron might benefit from a sibling...

He turned back to Alfirinion and absentmindedly tucked a strand of hair behind the child's ear as he instructed: "Meet us at Saida's when you are done, and keep to the path, young one. I would not face your aunt's wrath should I be blamed for losing you."

"I am old enough to run these woods, Legolas!"

"Well, _I_ know that and _you_ know that, but dear Saida is struggling with your growth, loved-one. Allow her to let you go at her own pace, and hurry back. There is watered wine to be had and sweetcakes I baked myself."

Alfirinion smiled brightly and looked in that moment just as young as he truly was, and he dashed back down the path toward the clearing where they had reveled and feasted, calling a _Thank you, Legolas!_ over his shoulder.

Legolas sighed and looked toward the sky, just a sliver visible through the narrow window cut out by the trees and path. The leaves above him rustled dully-equal parts dry and limp in the dying summer. It would be a very crisp autumn, and they would be busy, he knew, with wildfires that season. He threw Elboron's abandoned sweater around his shoulders and hooked a thumb in his belt as he walked, squinting ahead to see if Elboron needed it, but they were almost back at the settlement and he would be warm enough there-even as the night settled in-so Legolas slowed his pace and watched the stars.

He had only walked a few paces when there was a breath of displaced air and the leathery whisk of leaves behind him, and he began to spin round, but was not quick enough as a hand slipped over his eyes and an arm wrapped around his chest, pulling him close to the body behind him.

"You are not on guard, my friend," a voice whispered in his ear.

Legolas rolled his eyes under the blinding fingers and cried out in amusement: "And I heard you coming a full breath before you caught me! You are out of practice, too, I think!"

"I am," Ithildim answered, and he spun Legolas around now so they stood face-to-face and then grasped his shoulders.

"It is Ithilien. It has made us soft."

"Has it?" Ithildim asked teasingly, and Legolas pulled away and took Ithildim by the upper arm as he continued along the route, talking over his shoulder.

"Aye, friend. We are sluggards now, I think. Hunting only so we can feast, worrying most over rationing our wine to survive this dreadful drought."

Ithildim sighed and caught up to Legolas, throwing an arm around his shoulders. "Is _that_ what you think about all the time, then?" Legolas shoved at him and Ithildim laughed and continued. "I ran in the trees tonight after helping Lerben pack up the meats. It smells like a storm in the canopy for the first time in months."

"The air _is_ wetter to breathe."

"Yes, if we are lucky, it may rain."

"Hm," Legolas said, tilting his head back as they walked so it bumped against Ithildim's arm while he considered the stars. Ithildim kept them walking on the straight path as Legolas watched the sky.

"We are in mighty danger of wildfires come fall, at this rate."

"Mm, even the pines are beginning to give up the fight, I have noticed."

"So let us hope," Ithildim said, squeezing Legolas' arm and propelling him toward Saida's as they reached the massive oak that marked the lit entrance to the settlement.

"Indeed," Legolas agreed. "I will go to Elboron and acclimate him to the idea of coming home for the night."

"And I will wait for Alfirinion at the end of the path."

"Good."

"Tell Saida to pray for rain," Ithildim smiled as he turned on his heel and walked away.

"Tell her yourself!" Legolas laughed and set off down the winding sidepath to Saida's dwelling.

He could hear Ithildim singing to the night as Saida's house came into view, and she sat outside on the stoop with a mug of wine in her hand and a child to either side of her, both well into what looked like their second sweetcake, judging by the crumbs.

He bent down to kiss Saida's forehead, and she smiled at him as he settled onto the ground before them, his back to the path and the darkness. She poured him a mug of wine from the carafe inside the door and passed it to him. Ewessel tapped Legolas on the nose as she chewed her cake, and then swallowed hurriedly.

"Thank you, Legolas," she said quietly, lifting a glass of water to her lips, then, with both hands.

"Yes, thank you! They are always better than even my mother's," Elboron added, leaning forward so both his elbows were propped on his knees.

"Well, we shall not tell the Lady _that_ , I think," Legolas whispered back, leaning forward, too, conspiratorialy.

The wind picked up around them and the late summer cicadas whirred madly at the whipping winds.

"Ithildim says to pray for rain, Saida," Legolas said abruptly, turning back to her as she sipped from her wine. Her dark hair fell heavy on both side of her face, and her light eyes caught the reflection from the oil lamp hung at the entrance to their path.

"I will pray for what I want to, Legolas," Saida told him with a smile. "But tonight that does not seem like such a bad thing to wish for."

"No, indeed," Legolas agreed.

The cicadas rose into song around them, vibrating as wildly as the wind, so that the children stared in awe and drank their water with eyes like moons over the rims of their glasses-attentive and curious and becoming very tired.

Legolas took Elboron's glass from his hands as he finished and reached past Saida to slip it through the open doorway.

"You are tired and I hear Ithildim and Alfirinion nearing," Legolas said to Elboron, holding out his hand to the boy.

The next moment Alfirinion and Ithildim burst into the light, laughing uproariously as the wind made the trees creak around them. Elboron took Legolas' hand and stood, nodding his thanks to Ewessel and Saida; the child leaned up against Legolas as the two approached.

"I promised Alfirinion a sweet cake and some watered wine," Legolas admitted to Saida as Alfirinion took a final swing at Ithildim, which Ithildim dodged and stopped mid-punch, so that he too now had a child by the hand; he pushed him forward and handed him over to Saida.

"Legolas!" Saida reprimanded.

"He is riled-you may thank me, I think!"

"Yes, Saida," Alfirinion said with a laugh. "I _am_ riled for I was running the trees before Ithildim caught me!"

Saida threw up her hands and poured a half-cup of water into Legolas' recently abandoned wine mug. "Hurry now, Alfirinion. If we are lucky there is a storm coming, and your sister needs her story for bed. Drink up and come inside."

Ewessel, who had been leaning against Saida, shifted so that Saida could haul her up under the arms and catch her legs at the knees. They disappeared together through the open door.

Elboron leaned more against Legolas as Alfirinion drank his wine and picked up the extra sweetcake left out for him.

"Pray for rain!" Alfirinion said, lifting the cake in a sort of toast while Ithildim took the sweater from Legolas' shoulders and slipped Elboron's arms into it one at a time. He lifted the child to his chest and bumped up against Legolas as he adjusted the weight.

"We shall pray, young one," Legolas said with a smile. He pressed a hand into Ithildim's back to lead him and Elboron to his own nearby dwelling.

It was fully dark, and the wind high, and the cicadas still droned around them.

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 _Thank you for reading!_


	2. Chapter 2: Fire

**Author's note:** As I will not be able to post for several days, here is the second chapter! Sorry to those who enjoyed the elven domesticity...

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 **Chapter Two: Fire**

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Legolas awoke to crackling.

In his half-aware dream, he had imagined it to be rain-and the earlier crash he had heard to be thunder-but as the noise grew and something scratched at the back of his throat, he awoke more fully and knew that this was not rain.

It was not rain at all.

It was smoky and thick and oppressive and the very opposite of their prayers. . .

Fire.

Legolas sat bolt upright and looked around the room-Ithildim was not there. Legolas' eyes burned as he blinked and his throat felt like it had been coated in burning oil. Ithildim was not _anywhere_ in the room, and he hoped that meant he was in his own home-perhaps even safe if the fire had not yet spread too far. Legolas leapt off of the couch and hastily pulled on a cotton overshirt before running for the room where Elboron slept and trying desperately to remember if he had refilled the water basin before falling asleep.

He could not remember, and he was beginning to feel frantic. It was so loud outside, as if the whole forest were ablaze.

"Elboron!" he called as he swept into the child's room.

He had been in forests when they were entirely alight-right in the middle of it-and it had never ended well for the trees, and seldom well for the wood-elves below them.

Legolas breathed a sigh of relief when he saw Ithildim already bent over the child's bed, rousing him gently but urgently with insistent pestering. Legolas picked up the child's tunic from the ground and shook it out. He rushed past Ithildim to Elboron and began to slip the shirt onto him, just as the child's eyes fluttered open.

"Eh-oh," Legolas said quietly to the owlish child. "Little prince of this forest, we must flee."

Elboron glanced around the room and then started when he realized both Legolas and Ithildim stood above him. Legolas immediately pulled him to his feet on the bed, roughly shoving a foot in each shoe as Ithildim swept out of the room.

"Check the water!" Legolas called after him, and then coughed into his arm.

"It is hot, Legolas-so loud," Elboron said sleepily.

"There is a mighty fire outside, young one, and we must seek shelter elsewhere."

Legolas patted Elboron on the cheeks firmly and the child blinked. Legolas reached past Elboron to yank the light cotton cloth from the open windows, and then wrapped it around his arm before tapping Elboron on the cheeks again and pinching the child's ear sharply as he picked him up.

"Ow," Elboron said vaguely, blinking finally into full awareness.

"I need your help, Elboron. When we go into the kitchen, Ithildim and I are going to soak some cloth in water and then wrap it around your face. You must not remove it, even if you become hot or itchy, and you must not let go of my hand when we leave, no matter what. Do you understand?"

Elboron stared at Legolas for a moment as Legolas began to hurry into the kitchen. When he did not answer still, Legolas stopped momentarily and shook him once before starting off again. "Elboron, _do you understand_?"

He jerked upright in Legolas' arms at the repeated question and then began nodding emphatically. "I must not touch the cloth, Legolas, and I must not lose you."

"For _I_ cannot lose _you_. I made a promise to your parents to keep you safe."

In the kitchen, Ithildim was crouched on the ground by the icebox, pulling jars of cold water out and twisting off their lids. Legolas dropped Elboron to the ground-he clung to Legolas' hand and, simultaneously, the crackling outside roared with a gust of wind. Beneath it all, Legolas swore he could hear the scream of the cicadas' discordant notes. There were shadows flickering across the walls now-boxes of dancing darkness opposite the open doors and windows-quivering and growing.

Legolas felt Elboron begin to tremble at his side as if he had only just understood what was happening.

"I am a fool. I did not fill the basin before resting," Ithildim mumbled, shaking his head.

"We will make do," Legolas whispered, and he dropped to his knees beside Ithildim and pulled Elboron between them. He unwound the cotton curtain from his arm and begin ripping it into strips, balling them up and handing them to Ithildim as he did so. Ithildim stuffed two strips in each jar and then twisted the tops back on each. As he hastily soaked the last three strips, Elboron began to cry.

"It hurts," Elboron whispered hoarsely, leaning into Legolas' shoulder and turning his face into his bicep-he had slipped into Westron in his distress.

"I know, child, I know," Legolas murmured, turning Elboron round and tying his hair back in a tight low knot. He did the same to his own and Ithildim's and then took the last unused jar of water and poured some onto Elboron's head, then his own, and then Ithildim's. He ran his hands from Elboron's crown to his nape over and over, and then wet his own hair.

Legolas stood abruptly and Elboron cried out when Legolas dropped his hand. "I am only getting bags," he reassured the child as he dashed from the room. "We must carry the jars somehow."

The smoke outside settled more heavily to the ground as the winds momentarily died down and, for the first time since they had awoken, it now snaked through the open front door to curl like lazy tendrils across the floor.

Legolas came running back into the room with two sacks. He dropped to the ground and cushioned the jars with extra cloth before shoving it all into the sacks. Ithildim pulled the three additional soaking strips out of the water and tied one tightly around Elboron's nose and mouth, before tying one around Legolas' face, too, and then his own; Legolas knotted Ithildim's mask behind his head as Elboron pulled nervously at the neckline of Legolas' overshirt. Ithildim yanked down his cloth long enough to press a kiss to Elboron's forehead and brush Legolas' cheek, and then he shoved them both in front of him and toward the door.

"Let us go now before it is too wild to cross to Saida's!"

Ithildim followed them forward, but then there was a mighty, deafening crash, like the thunder Legolas had thought he heard in his dream.

But it was not thunder.

It was an explosion. An explosion of ceramic and hot white fire with dazzling black fumes that engulfed them just as they breached the doorway. Legolas could not stop from crying out as he threw Elboron behind him and then shielded his eyes, which now burned with the intensity of the light and whatever hot liquid had burst out with it.

"Orthanc fire?" Legolas hissed angrily as he bent double and wiped hurriedly at his face. He smelled burnt hair but could not tell if it was his or someone else's. "Elboron!"

"He is here, Legolas, he is here and unharmed," Ithildim reassured in Westron as he turned Legolas' curled form away from the doorway to face him more fully. "It is my hair you smell burning."

Elboron crawled forward over the far-flung ceramic sherds and latched onto Legolas' arm. Legolas straightened but pressed his hands to his eyes and grimaced, trying to sense through his pain whether or not the explosion had blocked the main exit, but his nerves were too stretched to tell.

"Ithildim, can we get out?" Legolas asked in low and rapid Silvan, only one hand now pressed against his eyes; the other had strayed reassuringly to rest on the hand with which Elboron clenched his arm. "Can we _get the child out_?"

Panic burned in Legolas' chest as he waited for just a moment while Ithildim assessed the house and considered his response. He felt Elboron grasp his arm more tightly, and then Ithildim replied shortly: "Yes. We will go out the window. But, right now, Legolas, pay attention to _me_ , not to Elboron, or to the fire."

Legolas could feel Ithildim prying his hand and arm away from his face as he whispered rapidly: "Open them, Legolas. Come on now. Show me your eyes, Legolas. We need to leave."

Legolas opened them for a moment, blinked, and then closed them again immediately for they burned like salt on a wound and he realized-with a wave of horror that sent an unexpected and nauseating chill through him-that he could not see at all.

"We do not have _time_ for this, Ithildim!" Legolas snapped, pulling away from Ithildim roughly in his surprise. "I am no use getting us out of the forest at the moment. Take Elboron to Saida and then lead our folk to Faramir. I will come when I am able."

Elboron was squeezing Legolas' arm so hard now that he felt his fingers tingling, and he was suddenly grateful the child could not understand their argument, as Elboron was not yet fluent enough in their Silvan dialects to comprehend under such duress.

"You fool!" Ithildim reprimanded, taking both Legolas' hands in his as the toxic fumes from the explosion burned away and a mighty gust of the renewed wind blew wood-smoke in through the open windows. "I am going to need your help to get Ewessel and Alfirinion from Saida, and we have a people to lead out of this _together_. Open your eyes _now._ "

Elboron's grip on his arm was a vice as Legolas finally let Ithildim pull his hand away. He tilted his head toward the ground and forced his eyes open. He squinted-tears welled on the lower lids as his eyes tried to cleanse themselves of the irritants, but he kept them open as long as he could, closing them again after several long seconds.

"I cannot see, Ithildim, and it hurts to try. I will do my best to follow you out of here, but Elboron _must_ be your priority," he commanded in quiet Silvan.

"Of course. Of course the child is my priority!" Ithildim said with barely concealed joy, and he reached into the sack on his shoulder to pull out a jar of water. "Now that they are open, we will leave just as soon as I flush them out."

"But-"

"No, Legolas. We must have timefor this. This fire _is_ bad, true-though not as bad as we have seen-and you know as well as I that it is the _cause_ of the fire-and not the fire itself-that both of us are _truly_ worried about."

Legolas felt his shoulders slump, and he rubbed Elboron's knuckles absentmindedly as Ithildim used his sleeve to wipe debris from his lids to clear the area before flushing.

"And if that is the case and there truly is an enemy about, then I will need your help to keep Elboron safe." Ithildim's sleeve caught at a burn on his eyelid and he flinched slightly. "And I need you to be able to protect yourself, for I will not lose you now, so soon after the end of the Darkness."

Legolas felt his nostrils flare but knew Ithildim spoke soundly.

"All of _that,_ Legolas, is why we must have time for this," he finished.

Elboron's hands were sweaty-from fear or from the heat Legolas did not know-and his fingers bumped over the child's knuckles like a run of eighth notes as he soothed him.

"You are both truly all right?" Legolas finally asked, when Ithildim pulled away his sleeve from his eyes and instead gripped Legolas' chin with one hand to keep him from involuntarily flinching.

"It caught just my hair and my ear-I am burnt but I will be well."

Legolas kept his eyes clenched tightly as he nodded in Ithildim's grip. He whispered reassuringly to Elboron, returning now to the Common Tongue: "It will be fine, young one. We will head directly for Saida's and then make for the river. But first I am going to let go of your hand for a moment."

"All right."

Legolas let his hand fall from Elboron and Elboron released the painful grip on his arm. He stood very still as Ithildim readjusted his hold on his chin and leaned into him, propping his forearm on Legolas' brow to steady the hand that held the jar.

"I will count to three, Legolas."

Legolas nodded slightly.

"One."

He felt Elboron step away from them.

"Two."

There was a mad buzzing somewhere, out of doors. The cicadas in the trees?

"Three."

On three, Legolas forced his eyes open and gritted his teeth in a growl as Ithildim poured the water into one eye, then the other, and back again, several times. When Ithildim emptied the last of the water into his eyes, Legolas finally leaned forward and blinked rapidly-the water and oil ran down his face, into his tunic and to the floor. He heard Ithildim drop the glass and begin to shift toward him.

"All right," Legolas ground out, batting away Ithildim's steadying hands as he spat water out of his mouth. "I am all _right_." He then straightened and reached up to rub at his eyes.

Ithildim caught his arms in an immobilizing grip and brought his hands back down. "Do _not_ rub them. Can you see now?"

Legolas nodded and reached an arm behind him toward Elboron, who latched back on with fervor and knit his small fingers between Legolas' longer ones. "I see mostly shapes. It will come back."

Ithildim pulled the cloth from the jar he had used to flush Legolas' eyes and tied it around his head, so it settled on his brows.

"I do not want them to dry out as we run, and we will flush them again later. You will need your sight when this is over."

Elboron laughed tremulously, his chuckle vibrating with the terror that racked his body. "You both look very silly," he murmured, as they all turned as one to face the open window.

"Mm, you do, too, Elboron," Legolas smiled behind the cloth. "Ill-defined and rather lumpy."

A cicada came flying in through the window; its wings aflame, it pelted helplessly to the kitchen floor.

"Jest later, and follow me now. We go this way-come!"

And then Ithildim took Legolas by the upper arm and dragged him through the window and into the night-Elboron trailed from Legolas' hand like a wisp.

All around them, cicadas plummeted from the sky like felled stars; heavy and hopeless, they covered the ground. The insects writhed and crunched underfoot as they began to run.

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 _Thank you for reading chapter 2! Please consider leaving a review before navigating away._


	3. Chapter 3: Rain

**Author's note:** Cheekybeak pointed out that I had not given approximate ages for the children. Ewessel and Alfirinion are siblings and are both not yet of age, nor fully grown by elvish standards (I use LACE as a guideline). Ewessel is approximately 7-8 human years (1st or 2nd grade in the US school system) and Alfirinion is 14 years (8th grade). Elboron-Faramir and Eowyn's son-is about 10-11 years (and a "young" 11-4th or 5th grade in the US school system). As for the inquiry about Ithildim, Saida, and Legolas' relationship to one another, I recommend readers check out some of their-incomplete-backstory in my Mirkwood Series (not a plug, just an honest suggestion!)

Thanks to Cheeky for reading ahead of time; no beta for grammar-all mistakes are mine.

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 **Chapter Three: Rain**

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It would have been dark outside were it not for the flames, for the clouds had moved in as Ithildim predicted to obscure the stars and halfmoon. As Legolas' eyes adjusted to the night and to being open, he began to see the outlines of things more clearly. Elboron still clung to him as they forewent the path to Saida's and cut instead directly through the sagebrush and forest to her home. By the time they reached the back entrance, the sight had returned fully to his right eye and the air smelt of festivals, for the sage all around them had caught and hid patches of the forest with heavy white smoke. Elboron was coughing mightily and when they came to a stop outside Saida's backdoor, Legolas dropped to his knees and took the lid off one of his jars—he pulled out a clean cloth, slipped off the child's sullied one and threw it to the ground, and then wrapped the new one again around the child's face.

"Saida!" Ithildim yelled into the house.

Legolas stood and lifted Elboron into his arms; the child clung to his neck with one hand as they both stood and watched Ithildim peer into the house. Legolas could see Ithildim's face now clearly out of his right eye, and he was blistered on the right side of his face from the explosive's flames but seemed otherwise hale.

But the fire was worse here. Where was Saida? Where were the rest of their folk?

He stepped closer to Ithildim and spoke his thoughts aloud: "Where are the rest of our folk? This fire is no accident, Ithildim... Do you think she is injured?"

At that moment, Alfirinion came barreling around the corner of the house from the front and ran full force into Ithildim's chest. The child melted into Ithildim's arms as he spoke, so fast his Westron was barely comprehensible.

"Saida sent me to find you, because I know the paths so well! She has had everyone meet in the glade where we feasted for it is large and farthest removed from the fire. Then we will run to Faramir and send riders from him to Minas Tirith. The horses are gone."

"Gone!" Legolas exclaimed. "And where is everyone else, Alfirinion? Has everyone gathered there, in the glade?"

"I went as a runner to all the houses in our enclave, and then Meleg went to the next and so-on. We could not get to you. Ithildim, your house is burnt to the ground, and the flames were too high so Saida would not let me run to yours, Legolas, until now, when you did not come as she expected..."

"There was fire everywhere and a bomb!" Elboron finally exclaimed from where he peered over Legolas' shoulder. "Legolas was hurt and Ithildim had to fix him."

Alfirinion jumped back and released Ithildim to look up into Legolas' face; he glanced back and forth between the two of them and then stated: "You both look terrible."

"Thank you, Alfirinion," Legolas said, smiling and putting a hand on the young elf's shoulder, pushing him forward into Ithildim. "You know which parts of the forest are not burning?" Alfirinion nodded. "Then I will listen for the wind as we run and hopefully we can predict it. We will follow you. But first put on one of these."

Ithildim took the cue and was already removing the half-emptied jar from Legolas' sack and extracting a wet cloth. He knelt on the ground and wrapped it around Alfirinion's mouth and nose. "It helps with the smoke," Ithildim explained.

"You have been in more fires than I have," Alfirinion said, as Legolas began to detach Elboron from his neck with a susurrant whisper.

"Yes," Ithildim answered. "And we survived every one of them."

He clapped Alfirinion on the shoulder as Legolas shifted toward him, nodding at the child in his arms.

"Carry Elboron on your back," Legolas said quietly and in Silvan. "He is too slow to keep up with the pace we must set, and I do not yet trust my footing."

Ithildim turned around and Legolas carefully placed the child on his back. Elboron instinctually looped his arms around Ithildim's neck and wrapped his legs about his waist. Ithildim grasped the back of the child's knees and hoisted him up.

Alfirinion looked up at Ithildim and Legolas for permission to run and Legolas nodded, adjusting the cloth around his head.

"You know these woods, Alfirinion. Run them. Show us what you were born for, loved-one."

Alfirinion danced on the balls of his feet for a moment—in nervousness—before Legolas gave him a gentle shove, and they were off.

* * *

Legolas' eyes burned and he struggled more than he was comfortable in keeping up with Alfirinion's wild pace. The child dodged left and right, between trees and over bushes, through low clumps of smoldering sage, occasionally scaling a tree partway before scrambling to the next when the heat was too fierce and the flames inescapable. Elboron clung to Ithildim's back ahead of him, and the child bounced wildly—legs flailing except for Ithildim's steady hold on his knees—as they wound down the paths. By now, Legolas had figured out exactly how Alfirinion was leading them, and they were close indeed.

He caught up with Ithildim and Elboron as they barrelled ahead down another secondary path—that looked clearer, farther from the fire and closer to the safety of the glade—and he was close enough then to hear Elboron's harsh coughs, hacking even through the protective cloth. He drew nearer and bumped up against Ithildim's shoulder as they ran and hissed in a labored whisper:

"The child needs fresher air, just for a moment. Put him down, but for a moment; we are almost there! Let us slow Alfirinion."

But Ithildim did not even turn to look at him; he simply shook his head and pressed on. Legolas felt his nostrils flare and then he was shouting ahead to Alfirinion.

"Hey-o! Elboron needs air!"

"Legolas!" Ithildim reprimanded, but Legolas grabbed him firmly by the arm and pulled them all to a jolting stop.

"It is no good to get him out of the fire and back to Faramir if we return him dead, you fool!" Legolas hissed at him, angry, and the anger pulled at his inflamed skin and only stoked his impatience. "This child is not like Alfirinion and Ewessel. Elboron is _mortal_ , Ithildim, and I know mortals—he may not endure as long as we."

Ithildim's face fell and he felt his eyebrows relax as he looked at Legolas' serious expression, made all the more serious by the blood weeping from the edges of the burn on his eyelid.

He turned away from Legolas as he lifted Elboron from his back and dropped him to the ground between the two of them. "Alfirinion!" he shouted ahead.

Alfirinion turned and saw them stopped and doubled back toward them, loping with the gangly legs of a boy not quite grown.

"We are almost there!" Alfirinion exclaimed upon arrival, but Elboron stood coughing before them, and tears rolled down his cheeks; Alfirinion's protest stopped short as he dropped to his knees in front of his younger friend. "But the fire is not so bad here. It is hampered by the stream and I think it will rain soon. We are safe for a moment." He then he turned his attention more directly to Elboron, whose hands had found Legolas' undershirt and were twisting themselves in it again as he cried. "We are safe for a moment, Elboron," he repeated. "Breathe now."

Elboron opened his eyes to look at Alfirinion and nodded, loosening his grip on Legolas' shirt. Alfirinion smiled and touched his hair gently.

In that very moment, however, a Man came barreling out of the woods to their right, some distance ahead of them, closer to the clearing and the rest of their folk than they.

He was not an old Man, but neither a young one, and he was neither fat nor skinny, ugly nor fair, and he clutched a heavy sack to his chest—the contents clanked like a cart full of pots pulled by old oxen as he ground to a sudden stop, for he was so startled to see them grouped there on the path that he froze utterly and stared.

Legolas and Ithildim stared at _him_ also—taken aback, having been distracted by the fire and the children before them—and Alfirinion turned his head round to see what had caught their attention. He immediately pulled Elboron to him at the surprising sight, pressing the child against his chest before standing with his significant weight, for one Alfirinion's size. He turned round to place them both between Ithildim and Legolas, assured there of their safety.

The Man stared at the elves and the elves stared back until there was a split second in which the Man twitched to his left as if to run back into the forest, but then instead lurched forward. He dropped the heavy sack and there was the dense shattering sound of fired clay and spilling liquid, and then the sack's cloth was drenched and the air suffused with a scent—both familiar and foreign—that burned the nostrils. Legolas moved forward as Ithildim pushed Alfirinion and Elboron back. At the same time, the Man was pulling a ceramic bulb, stoppered with what appeared to be oil cloth, from inside his jacket, and his eyes were wide and wild.

Ithildim let out a warning shout as he followed Legolas forward—for the Man was unstuffing the bulb now and shifting his weight—and Ithildim expected that Legolas, with his very recently recovered vision, was not focusing on anything but his aim in taking down the threat, and he was fast approaching his goal.

At the shout, Legolas startled slightly and registered the threat, but not soon enough, for the Man had pulled his arm back and launched the contents of the bulb directly into Legolas' face. . .

The yell that emerged from Legolas as he tackled the Man to the ground was like nothing either children had heard before. They both sat crumpled on the path—absolutely still and staring—as Legolas tussled with the Man, grappled with his arms, and eventually pinned him to the ground with his body weight. Then, Ithildim was there, and he delivered a swift kick to the Man's temple, and all was still again.

Ithildim rolled Legolas off of the Man—not yet daring to look at his face but registering that he did not attempt to rise on his own—and took the cloth from around his own mouth and the extra cushioning for the jars out of his sack, all of which he used to tie the Man's arms behind him and lash his feet together. Finally, he ran a length of cloth between his teeth, twice, and knotted it loosely.

Only then did he realize that Alfirinion and Elboron—whose coughing had calmed once he was closer to the ground, farther from the smoke—were standing at his shoulder as he knelt, staring at Legolas in front of them.

Ithildim turned to see and felt as if he might be sick—not because of the grotesqueness of it, but because he knew what this could mean for his friend.

Legolas sat on the path, legs splayed open in a diamond-shape before him. His hands hovered just over his face, wanting to touch it but not daring, for his skin was irritated on one side and his left eye was tightly closed and quivering—the skin around it was rapidly swelling and Ithildim breathed out a deep sigh and crawled toward him, unsure of what to do now as they were nearly out of water.

Legolas' jaw was clenched tightly and his teeth slightly bared; air hissed out from between them. He dropped his hands from their flight around his face as he felt Ithildim approach.

"Oh, Legolas," he breathed, and Legolas cracked his right eye open to look at him.

"Oh, I will not die from this," Legolas said through clenched teeth, "but I once again cannot see. . . Help me up."

Ithildim stood and took Legolas under the arms, yanking him to his feet and steadying him for a moment before letting go of his hold under his arms. He had reached both hands up to Legolas' face to offer comfort when Alfirinion suddenly began to bat his hands away. He unwrapped the cloth around his mouth and pressed it into Ithildim's hands.

"I know the smell now!" Alfirinion exclaimed with a groan, and there was panic beginning to show on his young face. "It is turpentine, and something more that I do not know! You must not touch it too much, Ithildim, and we will leave the bag."

Ithildim took the rag from Alfirinion and wrapped it around a hand, wiping the side of Legolas' face that was red and irritated from the oil—he blotted at it and pressed the cloth against his swollen eye. Suddenly, Legolas swayed and lurched forward, both hands coming up to his face. And then he was on his knees on the path, near the Man who had assailed them, and Ithildim could not get him to stand.

"I cannot, Ithildim; this time, I cannot," he explained, hands still pressed to his face. "I cannot see well enough and my head feels like it could explode out my eye. This will not kill me—though it does smell like Mordor though and burn like a spider—but I cannot ensure your safety right now, Ithildim. Take the children, and I will make my own way."

Ithildim turned to Alfirinion and saw Elboron clinging to his arm—he was crying again.

"I am all right, child," Legolas assured Elboron, for he felt Elboron stir the air near his arm before Alfirinion pulled him away. " _Go_ , Ithildim."

Ithildim found himself doubled forward for a moment, nauseous, and then he was stood and bent slightly to pull Legolas' hands from his face, reprimanding: " _Damn_ you, Legolas." He gripped one of Legolas' hands tightly as he continued. "Stay on the path." He pulled him to his feet and placed one of Legolas' long hands on a slender sapling beside them. "We do not want to lose you in the smoke—I will come back to you, I promise."

And then Ithildim could not breathe, and it was not because of the air. There were tears on Legolas' cheeks as he nodded, his eyes working hard to flush out the toxins.

"I promise, Legolas," Ithildim repeated in a whisper, and he ran his hand over Legolas' hair once before Legolas pulled away and waved a hand at him in dismissal. He smiled forcibly and then heaved a heavy sigh before swatting his hand a second time and commanding gently, again: " _Go_ , Ithildim."

Ithildim took Elboron by the hand and was moving away at speed—leaving Legolas many steps behind them—when Alfirnion ran in front of Ithildim and shoved him back, his small hands pushing at Ithildim's abdomen with such force that he stumbled.

"I am not an imbecile, Ithildim," Alfirinion said. "You think I do not see because I am so young? Well, I do." Ithildim felt his eyebrows raise in surprise and amusement despite their critical situation. "Tend to Legolas, Ithildim. I will take care of Elboron and you cannot leave him alone. I will send folks back to help—it will be a matter of minutes only!—and Legolas needs _you_." He glared up at Ithildim and crossed his arms. "Right, Elboron?" Alfirinion asked without looking away from Ithildim's face.

Ithildim looked down at Elboron, who nodded emphatically, and crossed his arms like Alfirinion, despite the tears still drying on his cheeks—it was clear from their obduracy that Legolas had a significant hand in raising them both.

"I can hear you instigating sedition, Alfirinion," Legolas called from where he labored several yards behind them, "and I am not above telling your aunt."

Alfirinion ignored him and stared again at Ithildim. "Trust me, Ithildim."

Ithildim threw his hands into the air and rolled his eyes.

"Fine, yes!" he exclaimed, and he could hear Legolas curse behind them at the realization he was being entirely ignored. "Very well. Send folks back for us, and for that man."

"It will be half a dozen minutes, at most," Alfirinion promised, and Elboron latched onto him now, instead of Ithildim.

Legolas was cursing at Ithildim emphatically as he stumbled again to his knees, confused by the smoke and his diminished sight; Ithildim waved a hand at Alfirinion and directed more urgently: "Go. Go!"

And Alfirinion jumped into action without another word. Lifting Elboron into his arms, he disappeared ahead into the gathering darkness.

Ithildim turned and hurried back to Legolas, who had remained on his knees and seemed to vibrate with frustration as he pulled the strips of cloth from his face and threw them to the ground.

"You should not have come back. The falling. . . I am just overwhelmed by the pain. I am fine, Ithildim," Legolas said, not moving to look up at Ithildim. He pressed one hand to his forehead and ground its palm into his brow, scrunching his nose as he did so.

"You are not fine," Ithildim said shortly, looking down at him.

"We have a responsibility to the children." His nostrils flared.

"And I have a responsibility to _you_ ," Ithildim retorted, dropping to his knees in front of Legolas. "Though I do not know why I bother," he added after a moment's thought, "for you are ever a thankless fool."

"You do not mean that."

"Mm, no, I do not," Ithildim assured. He noticed Legolas was worrying his lip and had closed his eyes. "Alfirinion is smart; they will be fine."

Legolas nodded and opened an eye; he grabbed onto a nearby tree and pushed off of Ithildim's shoulder, attempting again to stand.

"Legolas, give yourself a moment!" Ithildim exclaimed, pulling him back to the ground. "The rain is so nearly here—do you not feel it?"

Legolas did not answer for several long seconds, and Ithildim frowned at him in concern. "I feel it," he finally said, and he let himself be settled back down; he leaned his head against Ithildim's shoulder and pressing his face into him, breathing deeply through the pain.

Then, from overhead, there was a steady, resonant rumble—for which they had been so long praying—and Ithildim forced Legolas more fully to the ground.

Legolas did not protest the movement, so Ithildim settled Legolas' head into his lap and adjusted the tightly knotted hair so it was in between his thighs, to steady his head. He pulled out a clean cloth from Legolas' sack and began to more carefully clean his face—the fire suddenly seemed so distant—and himself so far away from his own body—as he focused with care on the visceral task.

There was a deeper roll of true thunder overhead as he dropped the cloth and began to stroke Legolas' hair. He stared out up the path, as Legolas breathed pain through clenched teeth, and murmured to him a long-distant memory. He felt the tension of Legolas' shoulders deflate against his thighs, and he knew that Legolas had accepted his subservience given the situation.

A minute passed until the wind picked up and whipped down the path around them-there was sage on the breeze, and water, and a wet song-and Legolas stirred and whispered:

"I may not, I think, ever see properly again." His less-injured eye was cracked open and searching. There was a moment's pause, then: "Look at me, Ithildim—for I want to remember you."

Ithildim took a deep breath and quit his murmuring, and there was the flash of lightning and another crack of thunder overhead as he looked down at Legolas, singed hair swinging from his ill-held ponytail to frame his down-turned face.

There was a twitch of a smile at the corner of Legolas' mouth at the movement, and he reached back and felt for Ithildim's hand, and teased: "Short hair suits you, Ithildim."

And then there was a final crash before the sky opened up, and a torrent poured down upon them. Ithildim cried out in joy and pressed a kiss to Legolas' forehead—far from the skin still tainted with toxin—before wrenching open the eye that tried so hard to stay shut, cleansing it in the purifying rain.

Legolas cried out in pain; Ithildim dipped his head, and just cried—

This had been such a long time coming.

* * *

 _Thank you for reading and please consider reviewing. Happy March!_


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